Just a Little Different Every Time
by floatingstrange
Summary: The Grimm household and all their cohorts and characters are stuck in fluctuating, alternate universes, and they can't escape or figure out why, if they can even remember which universe is the real one; or if there even is a real one. First: Sabrina, Puck, and a diner; whatever could go wrong? T for Language and Themes
1. The Diner

Every morning Sabrina woke up at approximately 7:15 and got ready for the day ahead of her. Working as a temp for New York City's finest hadn't been her first choice as a profession; it wasn't like she wanted to be a temp, she wanted to be in the field, like every other officer in the building. She wanted to be protecting the people from harm and keeping peace. Unfortunately, if you decide to punch the final test administrator just because you didn't get the best score, it has some effects on your final position. They told her to consider it as some sort of probation; but in reality, nothing was keeping her from being an official officer of the law, because no one could deny her talent.

Of course, while working as a temp did have its disadvantages, one thing she did love was that she always got a discount at the diner across the street from the police station. It was a cute little thing, with a teal awning over its brick walls. The inside was filled with the smells of cinnamon and sugar and coffee, and it was always the right temperature. Sabrina could deal with being a temp for a year if she could eat in that diner every morning.

As she made her way down to the diner for breakfast, she thought about what she was going to have to do today in the office. Probably file a bunch of paperwork and sign too many forms to count. But, as of today, she only had 6 months left before her position as a temp could be reevaluated and she could re-take her final exam. The thought was exciting, her "probation" was already halfway over, and she couldn't wait to finally be doing what she wanted to in the first place.

Shouldering her way through a particularly massive crowd of businessmen and women, she saw a blond head bobbing up and down in the mess. It's not like that's unusual though, there are plenty of blond people in New York City, she just thought it didn't fit in. Every single person out this early was on their way to work, dressed in their formal business-ware and sporting their neat, slick hair. But this person wasn't; it looked like he wasn't even trying. His hairdo could only be defined as "not caring" and his work attire looked like he woke up on a pile of trash, looked into a mirror, shrugged, and walked away.

Whatever. No random, early-bird hobo was going to ruin her morning routine.

As she entered the diner, she was immediately ensorcelled by its atmosphere. The little silver bell at the top of the door chimed and the waitress behind the bar waved and said hello. Sabrina smiled back and sat down in the second booth from the left, and opened a small book she had been reading for the past few days. It was actually a pretty interesting read, her friend had picked it out for her for her birthday last year and she had just gotten around to reading it now.

The bell chimed again as another customer entered. But as she looked up curiously to see who it was, a waitress appeared in front of her.

"What'll you have today?" she asked nicely. She was about to order her usual when she looked up and didn't recognize her waitress, it must've been someone new. She didn't know they were hiring.

Sabrina's reply, after hesitating, was almost instant, "I'll have the blueberry pancakes with extra strawberries on the side," it was what she had been getting for the last month and she had yet to grow tired of it.

"Alright, I'll be out in a few minutes with your order," the waitress said, popping her gum and clicking her pen shut.

"Thank you," Sabrina mumbled, not unkindly, as the waitress, whose nametag said _Trixie _in black, curly letters, followed by a little heart she must have drawn herself with a pen, turned away to take more orders.

Ever since discovering the diner by accident recently after getting her job, she had almost tried every item on the menu, but the blueberry pancakes with extra strawberries stuck like nothing else had. When it arrived, she put her book far enough away so that it wouldn't be a syrupy mess when she picked it back up again, and started eating. This was her most recent morning routine; and it was almost perfection for her taste buds every time.

After savoring the amazing pancakes for as long as she could, she took a sip of water and stood up to leave. She always hated leaving the nice, warm diner to step outside back into the chill. But it was her job, so she did it anyway. She took one last deep breath, inhaling the scent of cinnamon and pancakes and everything she loved, and stepped out the chiming door.

She was about to make her way across the street to the station when she heard the little bell chime again.

"Wait!" someone called, "I think you forgot this."

She turned around, confused, and was met by that early-bird hobo, holding her book in his left hand, and half a pancake in his right.


	2. The Book

_She turned around, confused, and was met by that early-bird hobo, holding her book in his left hand, and half a pancake in his right._

"Excuse me?" She asked, confused.

"Your book," he explained, "you left it on the table when you left."

She looked down at the pancake in his right hand, still dripping with sugary syrup, as if he had just plucked it right off his plate.

He extended her book towards her, "You're lucky I was just leaving and happened to notice it," he said, a little gruffly, "don't be so stupid next time."

She was taken aback, "_Excuse me?_"

"What, is that all you can say to me for graciously picking up your stupid book and bringing it so kindly to you. You should be grateful I even noticed you left it!"

With that, she snatched her book right out of his hand and quickly crossed the street.

"You're _welcome!_" he shouted out to her.

Ignoring him, she stomped into the station and crashed down into her chair behind the front desk, not caring what she looked like. How _dare _he?! How rude! One would think people could learn manners in this damn city.

"Looks like _someone's _a little upset this morning," someone said. Looking up, she noticed Officer Notting standing in the doorway, looking quite disgruntled himself. He was only about ten years older than her fresh-out-of-college self, but he had already been seen worrying over a few grey hairs on his mane of a head. Seriously though, he kind of looked like a lion.

"I thought little Miss Sunshine here would know how to control her anger by now, or should we postpone your reexamination until next year, eh?" he smirked at her.

She smirked back, eyeing his crooked nose, "I thought you could take a punch, but it looks like we were both wrong."

Notting squinted at her, mumbling a low "you watch yourself, girlie," before sulking out of the room.

She released the breath she had been holding and reached for the book once again. It wasn't a bad book; in fact, she rather enjoyed it. It was about these two unfortunate people who are roommates paying for an apartment together. One of them is a thief and the other is a bank robber and they're both trying to hide it from each other, dancing around everything suspicious at all.

She picked up the book and looked at it how it was coated with a small, sticky layer of syrup. She sighed and brought it to the bathroom to see if she could rub some of it off with a wet paper towel. She carefully rubbed at the paperback's plastic cover, ridding it of any syrup that had been there before.

While working on one particularly sticky patch of syrup, she glimpsed at the author's name, but it was worn away. She could almost make out some letters, but couldn't. Shaking away her stray thoughts with her head, she tossed the soiled paper towel over her shoulder and into the waste bin, and walked back to her desk.

Looking around and, noticing that nothing of interest was happening at the moment, she sat down and opened the book to where she left off.

_He first got into the business when working at a lemon stand in the third grade. He had seen Wendell's mom put cash in the big grey box, and he had been itching to get his hands on it._

_It was a hot summer day and his mom had dropped him off with Wendell and his mother to help sell lemonade. It wasn't his first choice in activity today, he wanted to leave a one of his special presents for his brother for being the favorite of the family, but his mother would not have that._

_Grabbing a slice of lemon from the table, he sauntered over to where Wendell was drawing with chalk on the sidewalk._

"_Hey Wendell," he said innocently._

"_Hello" the boy replied, quietly._

"_Wanna play a really fun game?" Wendell looked at him a little fearfully, so he added, "c'mon, it'll be fun! Bella played it with me just the other day and I bet she's better than you at it!"_

_Indignant at this, Wendell stood up, "okay," he mumbled shyly, "what is it?"_

_He smirked at Wendell's ignorance, "just open your eyes real wide look up at the sky."_

"_Why?"_

"_Just do it, stupid."_

_Wendell opened his eyes as wide as he could and looked up at the clouds, "what now?" he wondered aloud._

_But instead of getting an answer, he got an eyeful of fresh-squeezed lemon juice. Screaming and immediately rubbing at his eyes, he ran as far away as he could._

_Wendell's mom jogged to where Wendell had just ran from, "what happened?!" she asked, accusingly._

"_I don't know, he just started screaming and running, maybe he needs some help, I can take care of the stall while you're gone. Don't worry about me Mrs. Wendell, you just take care of Wendell."_

_She looked at the boy for a second and then nodded, who knew what kind of trouble Wendell could get in just by himself._

_He had first got into the business that day when he stole nothing more than two genuine dollars from lemonade stand lockbox. It was what first introduced the thrill to him and it was a crowning moment of his life. No longer was he the snotty little pranking brat, he was the Trickster King himself, P-_

"What _exactly _do you think you're doing Sabrina?!"

She jolted to attention, successfully dropping her book right at Officer Notting's large, and what she assumed were hairy, feet.

"M-Manning the desk of course," she finally managed to answer.

Notting squinted at her once again, a habit he seemed to be adapting, and promptly dumped a stack of manila envelopes right in front of her.

"Get this done," Notting looked her right in the eye, "_today._"

Sabrina nodded quickly, assuring him it would get done. He started to leave but turned around right before exiting through the doorway.

"Oh, by the way," he put his hand on his hip "your friend called."

He sighed, "I told you before and I'll tell you again: no private calls." He turned and started to leave again, scratching his head he muttered, "I don't even know how that lunatic got my personal number."

Sabrina stayed quiet until she knew he was gone, then she took one look at the unorganized pile of paperwork and thought about the hours she would undoubtedly be wasting and sighed; at least tomorrow was Saturday.


	3. The Girl

_Sabrina stayed quiet until she knew he was gone, then she took one look at the unorganized pile of paperwork and thought about the hours she would undoubtedly be wasting and sighed; at least tomorrow was Saturday._

Before she even decided to get started organizing and signing papers, she whipped out her phone and shot a text to her friend.

**you called the station? why? i swear officer lionface almost killed me**

Placing her phone down next to the stack of papers, she grabbed the very top one; might as well start somewhere. It was a release form for this kid they jailed the other day. She had heard about it from Sheriff Ernest, one of the nicer ones. Apparently she was caught breaking into someone's house or something. The only reason she was caught was because she was talking to someone, but they didn't fine any one else at the scene.

Sabrina looked at the girl in the picture; she was barely an adult, with twin, brown braids and a weird look on her face, almost as if she knew what she had done, but was not ashamed and was merely waiting to be let out again. Luckily for her, someone paid her bail, and now all Sabrina had to do was approve of the release form.

Sighing, she reached for her favorite black pen and clicked it open.

"You know, she kind of looks like you," a voice said from her right shoulder.

"Sheriff," she said, a little startled, "is there anything I can do for you?"

"It's the eyes, I think," he wondered aloud, "they're not the same color, but the shape is similar, so is the nose."

Sabrina stayed silent as he placed a pink hand on his chin, his nails were a little dirty and untrimmed, but she couldn't say it didn't fit him.

"You don't have to address me so formally, you know," he stated, finally looking up from the picture of the girl to Sabrina. "You can just call me Ernest."

"Okay, erm… Ernest. You think she," Sabrina gestured at the black and white photo of the girl with her pen, "looks like me?"

"Oh yes," he replied, straightening up and placing his hands behind his back, "If I didn't know any better, I would say you two were sisters."

"I don't have a sister, sir." Sabrina didn't even know who her parents were. She was dumped in an orphanage on the upper East end of New York City at a young age and grew up there. She didn't get adopted; though she was close once. They kept her until she was seventeen, then they thought she could fend for herself. She was smart and hard working in school, and with scholarships she got into a good college. All of this led to where she was now, without parents and definitely without a sister.

"I told you, please call me Ernest." He sighed, "And it was just an observation, no need to get defensive."

She was a little taken aback at this comment, but decided to let it go. Ernest didn't deserve any of her anger, he had been nothing but kind to her since his first day. She even thought she saw him chuckle a bit when she broke Notting's nose.

"Apparently," Ernest started stroking his mustache, "the lady that submitted this form is her grandmother."

Sabrina looked at the picture again. Maybe this girl did look like her, but that was just a coincidence.

"Should we release her to this 'grandmother' of hers?" Sabrina asked, looking up at Ernest.

He hand paused on the bottom of his 'stache, considering.

"Why not?" he answered simply, gesturing with his hand and shrugging lightly, "I don't see any harm in it. The girl is hardly eighteen, and I'm sure she's learned her lesson, she's been locked up since Wednesday. We'll let her out tomorrow."

_No, _you'll _let her out tomorrow, _Sabrina thought idly, _it's my day off._

"Alright," she said, signing the bottom of the paper.

As soon as she was done, Ernest slipped the paper out from underneath her hands, "Thank you," he stated cheerily, before softly nodding at her and trotting out of the room, his nicely-shined shoes click-clacking against the cheap marble that lined the floor.

Her phone buzzed, her friend had finally responded.

**It was really important, believe me **

Sabrina sighed, what could be so important that she risked Sabrina's job for it!?

**what is it? **She replied.

**Have you read that book I gave you yet? I gave it to you last year on your birthday, remember? Red cover, kind of small but not too small**

**i remember, what about it?**

**Have you read it?**

Sabrina sighed, this conversation was completely useless.

**im reading it right now, what about it**

**Tell me when you've finished it.**

**sure? **Sabrina replied. How shady, usually she wasn't like this. Whatever, she could worry about this later. She had to finish this paperwork by today.

It didn't actually take as long as she thought it was, she was even done an hour before she was technically off the clock. She knows that Officer Notting just punishes her because she broke his nose over six months ago. He's always resented her for that. Well, that and she did better than he did on the final exam.

She smiled at the memory of punching him, organizing the papers she had just finished and stacking them in the correct places.

Feeling like she had some time to spare, she was about to re-open her book to where she left off, when someone entered the station. She really did not want to deal with anyone right now, but it was her job, and she still had to do it for another hour. She looked up and there he was.

That goddamn early-bird hobo. Was he following her or something?

"Can I help you with something?" She asked, politely. Because God knows he doesn't have that ability.

"Yeah, actually," he started, "you know, I've been thinking."

She raised an eyebrow but stayed silent.

"Have we met before?" He asked her.

What the hell. No. Sabrina was sure she would have remembered this one. He didn't even try to clean himself up. He was wearing a shirt that looked like its better days were back in 2004 and she swore she could see a syrup stain, probably from this morning, right on the bottom of his sleeve. His hair was an unbelievably messy, blond mop, and she's sure it would have been at least two shades lighter if he actually washed it.

Don't even get her started on his shoes. She could see both his socks. Both of them. They weren't even matching. One was blue and she was almost sure the other one had unicorns on it. He wiggled his toes insistently and she looked up into his green eyes, realizing she hadn't even answered his question.

"Not that I remember," she said suspiciously, "I'm Sabrina."

"Well then Sabrina, 's nice to meet you, I guess." He looked around the station. "Nice place you got here."

_He would almost be attractive if he weren't so damn dirty,_ Sabrina thought idly. He stood around for a moment longer and then, realizing she wasn't going to say anything else, turned around to leave. But when he reached the door he paused.

"By the way," he said, looking back at her, "my name's Puck."

And then he left.

And then everything went dark.


	4. The Trip

_And then he left. _

_And then everything went dark._

And then she woke up in her bed. She looked around her room, it was still dark and she could see a lump she assumed was her sister Daphne in the sparkly, purple bed adjacent from hers.

She looked at the alarm clock on her tiny table, it was 5:30; she groaned.

Then she remembered: _today was the day_.

The wretched day she had been dreading ever since her parents decided they needed some 'well-earned bonding time with their daughters,' and she was not one bit excited in the least.

Sure, she had argued against it nonstop. And yes, her arguments were very valid. But of course, no, she could not skip this day.

And so today was the day.

She sat up and sighed, stretching her arms up and arching her back; trying to prepare her body for the torture ahead of her. Letting her arms drop loosely to her side, she resumed her slumped position.

Sabrina stayed there for a moment longer, blinking slowly, until she finally decided that she should probably get up.

She slid out from under her sheets and let her feet gently touch the cold floor. Her morning routine was always a slow one; she really wasn't a morning person at all.

Eventually she meandered out of her and her sister's room and down the stairs into the kitchen. Murmuring to herself as she opened the fridge.

For a second she almost expected to see a stack of purple pancakes and an assorted amount of food that looked either poisonous or extremely past its expiration date.

But she didn't.

And she didn't even know where that thought came from. Never in her life had she eaten anything like that. She was barely 16 and she and her sister lived in a small apartment complex in New Jersey with her parents, who took pretty good care of them.

It must've been something left over from her dreams. She tried to remember, but her memory of dreams and such were always so foggy.

Whatever, then. She grabbed a small jug of chocolate milk from the bottom shelf and chugged what was left, putting the empty container on the table.

Wiping her mouth, she wandered over to the couch and flipped on the television. The rest of her family would be up in an hour or so and she had taken a shower the night before, so she had some time to kill.

It was an old movie about this guy who ran away from home. He just kept following the railroads and eventually he collapsed on the side. Then some chick found him because she was into photography and sunrises and just saw him lying by the side of the tracks and had to drag him away from them because there was a train coming and it wasn't stopping. Sabrina found it all very cliché and somewhat exciting, not that she would ever admit that, it would make her sister a little _too _happy.

Just as the girl was trying to decide what to do and the guy was waking up, her mom came down the stairs. She quickly switched to another channel and pretended to be watching something else.

"Sweetie, what are you doing awake? We don't leave for another two hours," Veronica said slowly, pinching the sleep out of her eyes. Sabrina got her 'not-a-morning-person' thing from her mom's side.

"I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep, so I just decided to wait down here."

Veronica stared at her for a moment, then shrugged and padded her way back up the stairs.

"Pity won't get you out of this Sabrina, you're still going with us," Veronica said over her shoulder.

Sabrina groaned and released her head so it was hanging over the back of the couch and just stayed there until she couldn't hear her mother's footfalls anymore. Then she got up and went back to the fridge, opening it again just to make sure there wasn't any food she missed the first time.

There wasn't.

She scratched her stomach lightly and grabbed some strawberries and brought them back over to her warm corner on the couch, switching the channel back.

The girl from before was sneaking the boy into a house. Sabrina presumed it was her own house.

She scrolled up a few channels.

It was a commercial about some cologne called _The King_. She wasn't about that life, so she flipped to the next channel.

Cartoons.

Sabrina thought about her childhood when she used to stay up and watch cartoons until her parents made her go to bed.

Her favorite cartoon from when she was a kid was about these fairytale detectives, but she couldn't remember the name of it. It was just a vague memory of a ghost of an animation she thought she enjoyed. She'd figure it out later.

Sabrina slouched into couch and enjoyed her cartoons until the rest of the family finally came downstairs to eat breakfast. Actually, Daphne didn't come down at all.

"Sabrina, honey, go wake up your sister," her mom ordered from the kitchen.

Sabrina got up from her position on the couch, "Yeah," she grumbled. She didn't know why her mom couldn't do it herself. It wasn't like she was the one cooking. All she did was sit at the table and read a newspaper while her father, Henry, cooked.

Sabrina dragged her feet back up the stairs she had just come down a few hours ago and leaned through the doorway of the room she and her sister shared.

"Daphne."

Daphne didn't move. She was still a lumpy cocoon of purple sparkles.

"Daphne."

Still no movement.

"Daph."

The lump she assumed to be Daphne wiggled slightly and let out a loud snore. Sabrina was not excited for the rest of the day, not in the least.

She strode into the dark room, stubbing her toe on a hairbrush on her way to Daphne's notoriously _very _purple and _very _sparkly bed.

"Daphne."

She poked her sister's cheek in.

"Wake up. Daphne."

No response, still.

"Daphne, _please_," Sabrina whined.

"Daaaaphneeeeeeeeee"

Plumping down on her sister's bed, Sabrina huffed and crossed her arms.

She had never once been able to wake her sister up the _easy _way. No. _Of course not._ Sabrina did not have enough energy to do this thing every morning. She took a deep breath and, leaning so that her lips were just above Daphne's little ear (she noticed that her earrings were mustaches; classic), yelled.

"DAPHNE DAD MADE PANCAKES."

Daphne's eyes fluttered open, like motherfuckin sleeping beauty here, waking up from her eternal sleep by true love's kiss. She stretched like she was about to live the rest of her life in a beautiful castle with her own handsome prince.

Like hell that was happening. Sabrina scoffed at her antics.

"Mornin' sis," Daphne mumbled sleepily.

"Time to get up," Sabrina said gruffly, standing up from Daphne's bed, "Dad man pancakes and I want this day to be over as quickly as possible."

She left the room and went back downstairs and into the kitchen and grabbed her pancakes, adding extra strawberries to hers because it was going to be a _long _day and she _totally _deserved a treat.

Daphne came down a few minutes later, dressed in some little shorts and a cool shirt.

They ate quietly, because they knew that any sort of conversation would set Sabrina into a whirling mass of argumentative fire and they did not want to deal with that this early in the morning. They knew plenty of that would come later.

So they ate in silence. Which, Daphne admitted to herself, was a first for her.

And after breakfast, and after they cleaned everything up and after they put everything in the car and after they puled out of the parking garage and after they turned onto 3rd street, they were finally on their way to the single worst place at the very worst time, ever.

Sabrina could not believe they were dragging her through this. She did _not _want to and would _never, every _want to _ever _go to Six Flags. _Ever._


End file.
